


Everyone Fears Him, Don’t They?

by KhameirSarin



Category: Professional Wrestling, World Wrestling Entertainment
Genre: Gen, M/M, Yeah this is just Luke being grumpy and overly devoted to bray
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-20
Updated: 2016-03-20
Packaged: 2018-05-28 00:59:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 377
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6307723
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KhameirSarin/pseuds/KhameirSarin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Luke Harper was sick of the whisperings of the locals, especially when they concerned Bray Wyatt.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Everyone Fears Him, Don’t They?

**Author's Note:**

> Just a little idea that's been floating around in my head since I read one of those writing prompts titled 'Everyone fears him, don’t they?'. Super duper short because I wanted to write but I have writers block atm. Literally no proofreading either.

"Everyone fears him, don’t they?"

The words stung, drifting over and hanging around in Luke's ears like a corrosive gas trying to work its way into his brain. He knew the words hadn't been said to him directly, but every time he entered this sleazy bar he would hear nothing but the locals whispering about the mad cult leader in the woods. The one named Bray Wyatt. It had been interesting at first, hearing of their reputation amongst outsiders, but it was times like this that had caused Harper to realise he hated the murmurings. All gossip and rumours.

He took a moment to take in his surroundings. Bray wasn't there, and Erick and Braun had left to go somewhere. He hadn't payed attention as to where. This meant that although he would've loved to taken those mumbling imbeciles along the bar apart right this moment, it wouldn't end well, not for himself at least. He looked at the bottle of cheap whiskey, looked at the bartender, and the gun behind him, and elected to keep on drinking. He was a violent man, but not stupid. After another swig from the bottle, he went still, trying to listen for the individual voices again.

"Of course they fear him." He found the voices. "You can't respect a man like that, not after the things he's done."

Luke gripped the bar, knuckles yellowing from the pressure, and he closed his eyes.  
_How dare they._ He thought. _How dare they pretend to even know of what he's done._

"Somebody should just burn the whole compound, get rid of him and his shitstain of a cult."

_What he's done for his followers,_

"Get those mad bastards to an asylum. Or prison."

_ What he's done for Erick, and Braun, _

His head cocked round at an angle, eyes wide and grinning almost wildly as he singled out the accusers.

"And the same for that one who follows him like its his reason for living. The poor fucker needs help."

Luke was in front of them now: three unkempt, plump truckers all missing numerous teeth, the remaining ones flashing yellow through their obnoxious laughter. Luke, however, wasn't laughing.

_"You have no idea what he's done for me."_

  
And then he threw the first punch.

 


End file.
